Vigil in the Night Read Online Free Page A

drove slower than before, though, spinning out their time together, reaching Grimthorpe Junction only four minutes before the southbound express was due. He had barely time to buy her some magazines and newspapers at the bookstall before the express shrieked round the bend and Anne was in her compartment, waving good-bye to him from the window.
      “Take care of yourself, Joe,” she said. Then as her last and most important injunction she called out, “And take care of Lucy, too.”
      The journey to Manchester was a dismal one, through harsh industrial land lying sodden and begrimed. Tall chimney stacks rose up in the rain among the dumps of slag and refuse. The towns were dark and ugly, beaten by the weather, grimed with soot.
      Yet Anne had more to occupy her than the landscape or the weather. Though the eventuality which had broken up her life was a staggering one, as she had told Joe, she was determined to put the past behind her. Opening the Nursing Mirror, she went carefully through its advertising pages. By the time she had finished her brows were drawn. There was nothing, not a single nursing vacancy advertised for Manchester. This was a serious blow. It was essential that she find work at once; her last desire in the world was to take lodgings in the city and hang about till work turned up. If she were forced to do this, she would soon be destitute.
      Anxiously she picked up The Clarion, the local Manchester daily. She folded back its advertisement page, and instantly her face brightened. There at the top of the first column was the following advertisement: “Nurses. Strong, young girls, with or without experience, wanted for the Hepperton Institution. Apply Miss East, S.R.C., Matron.”
      How lucky, thought Anne, her heart leaping, to have chanced on this, on this particular day!
     
    CHAPTER 9
      Hepperton, which Anne reached by the penny tramcar, lay on the south side of the city in a working-class quarter packed with struggling humanity. As Anne gazed at it, finding it so different from the homely little County, dazed almost by its rows and rows of windows, she felt a sense of awe come upon her. What a great place! Yet what a chance, among this crowded population, for experience, for real, wonderful experience in her profession. Fortified by a cup of coffee and a bun at a neighboring stall—she had not broken her fast till now—Anne marched toward the porter’s lodge and boldly asked to see the matron. Her request was granted after she had filled in a printed form.
      Though the interior of the hospital was much more antiquated than Anne had imagined, Matron East was far from being a relic of the past. A stocky, thickset, bustling woman of about forty, gave the immediate impression of restless, choleric energy. She wasted no time with Anne.
      “Your name’s Anne Lee. You’ve had three years at the Shereford County. Cottage Hospital, eh? Just got qualified and then cleared out? Bit the hand that fed you, eh? I know what ingratitude is. I’ve had it all my life. I expect it, and I thrive on it. Where’s your certificate?”
      Anne produced the document. The matron took it, glanced at it.
      “That’s in order. Well, I’ll give you a chance. Report to Sister Gilson in Ward C, surgical side. You’ll have to pass the medical examination tomorrow. And remember, I don’t stand any nonsense. One half day a week if you’re lucky. Extra duty if you’re not. No smoking, cosmetics, or perfume. And you’ll have to share a bedroom. Take this slip along to Sister Gilson. That’s all.”
     
    CHAPTER 10
      Ward C lay at the far end of the north wing; it was in fact two wards linked by an operating amphitheatre, and Sister Gilson, to whom she made herself known, was a harassed-looking woman who accepted her as mechanically as the matron.
      “You’ll take duty this afternoon. It’s our receiving day. We’re very full at present. And a little short-handed.” The ward sister turned to a